


cause it feels like poetry.

by LLReid



Category: Bloodbound (Visual Novels)
Genre: Canon LGBTQ Male Character, F/F, Fluff and Smut, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Character of Color, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Female Character of Color, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Power Couple, Requests!, Romantic Fluff, Rough Sex, Same-Sex Marriage, Shameless Smut, Strap-Ons, Tattoos, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:33:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27723544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LLReid/pseuds/LLReid
Summary: Inspired by; Quite Miss Home by James Arthur.~~~~~“I have something I need to confess,” Anastasia said, half laughing. “I had a few shots the other night and I did a thing.”“Darling, the last time you did a thing you accidentally threw Lily from our rooftop because she dared you to use your abilities to float her to the building across the street whilst she pretended to be Superman,” she cringed, sighing in dismay at the memory of her protégé taking a fall that would’ve killed her if she’d been mortal. Instead of being horrified like a sane individual, the fool had ran back upstairs and demanded she do it again so she could film it.Anastasia giggled. “In my defence, I was drunk.”“That may have worked the first time, but she demands you do it every time she gets drunk at the penthouse and wears a different super hero costume each time.” She chuckled. “What’s your excuse for all of those times?”“I’m being a good friend and supporting her dreams of being a one woman Avengers team.”She kissed her forehead and rolled her eyes. She really did have an answer for everything. “Alright... what is this thing that you have done this time?”
Relationships: Kamilah Sayeed/Anastasia Sayeed, Kamilah Sayeed/Main Character (Bloodbound)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 56





	cause it feels like poetry.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a mix of prompts you guys have sent me on Instagram.
> 
> PROMPT 1: kami is a pure angel + her love for gummy bears in your stories is just 😭🥺 i need more of this content. give the lady her gummy bears!
> 
> PROMPT 2: STRAP FIC! STRAP FIC!
> 
> PROMPT 3: if Mc would get a tattoo with kamilah’s name on her. Somewhere sexy like her back when she’s bent over possibly👀 It can be a surprise and it’s in public at a huge event for her company(something of your choice) and Mc has an open back dress on. Note: it would be on her back and only in kamilahs native tongue so she will understand

“Wherever is that dazzling wife of yours, Kamilah?,” Kurt Manon of Manon Financial asked, much too sleazily for Kamilah’s liking as he sipped on a very weak looking gin and tonic. “Anastasia has made quite the impression since taking over Raines Corp. One would assume she’d be here, given that you’re both receiving awards tonight.”

It took every ounce of self control she had within her not to stab this old Welsh fool in the throat — but it would’ve been terrible for business to murder a mewling mortal at the Le Fonti Global Awards where Ahmanet Financial was being presented with the years financial award and Anastasia an award for being the years most influential individual. She was well aware that her wife would’ve been far from pleased with her when she arrived — which would be much, much worse than anything else.

A happy wife was a happy life, after all.

“Annie is flying to Singapore from Hong Kong, where she spent the last week guest lecturing students aspiring CEOs at the University of Science and Technology, and attending industry summits,” Kamilah stated matter of factly. “She is upstairs getting ready and will be here promptly, if you must know.”

“Ah,” the old man nodded. “A wonderful lady. I always knew she’d go far when she interned with me.”

She just barely resisted the urge to slap him, knowing damn well he’d been unaware Anastasia had even worked for his company at all until she’d given a speech to students at Belvoire where she’d mentioned it. What was it with old white mortal men, she wondered. Why must they think they had something to do with the success of an exceptional young woman? Were they really that delusional? Or was it a general generational trait, perhaps, the same way Anastasia and Lily’s frequently jokes about death were?

“Kamilah,” Mathew said, drawing her attention away from the old fool, “I’m sorry to interrupt but there’s an e-mail that I think you should look at.”

“Right.” She nodded. “Excuse me, Kurt.”

Without another word she followed her bumbling mortal assistant to the side of the event room at the Marina Bay Sands hotel, where they were staying for the duration of their trip to Singapore. For the most part Mathew had been proving himself remarkably pleasant company, though he seemed incapable of not flashing his gaudy Princess Diana engagement ring to everybody who so much as looked in his direction — but Kamilah knew his happiness well and didn’t mind it.

“Well then?,” she prodded when he made no move to turn over his work cellphone. 

“There was no e-mail, I just thought that guy was being a creep and saw you needed an out,” the mortal shrugged. “Even I wanted to punch him in the face.”

She laughed weakly and gave him a grateful smile. “He was not even attempting to hide his attraction to my Annie, was he? It’s about time he did everybody a favour and started going senile.”

“Classic straight white boomer behaviour.”

She huffed. “I was not amused.”

“I mean, that much is kinda obvious. I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times I have seen you amused.”

“You exaggerate.”

“Nope. My memory is clear because on each occasion you came within a hair’s breadth of cutting a bitch and getting us both killed,” he deadpanned. “The sheer amount of Big Dick Energy was inspiring— even if you were in the dog house when Anastasia had to fuck with minds to stop you being arrested afterwards.”

“Bold of you to assume any mortal police officer could ever take me alive—“ She cleared her throat, “Anyway... Thank you for that. You’ll be a valued addition to Clan Sayeed if you keep up that behaviour, Mathew.”

Mathew winked at her. “Forever and ever, Boss Lady.”

She didn’t have time to reply before she and Mathew both spotted Anastasia’s assistant Tyler entering the ballroom, looking a little tired from the flight but otherwise far more put together than normal in his tuxedo. Butterflies immediately started swirling in Kamilah’s stomach as she knew her wife wouldn’t be far behind him. It may have only been a week since she’d last seen her in person, but the time difference between where she had been working in London and Hong Kong had made FaceTime dates sporadic affairs — and she’d missed her terribly.

Mathew practically took off running to his future husband and Kamilah huffed in amusement as she followed behind at a more dignified sedate pace, but the moment her beloved made her appearance that changed. It had been an entire week since she’d kissed her or cuddled her... so she didn’t give a damn that she was very visibly excited at the prospect of finally having her back in her arms.

Anastasia looked absolutely exquisite in the black velvet backless gown she’d commissioned from YSL before her business trip. Kamilah smiled at the sight of her, marveling at the expensive shimmery velvet that clung to her torso like a second skin and seemed as if it flowed on an invisible current. There was a teasing sheer panel just below her breasts, framed on either side by diamonds that were craftily sewn into the velvet — hundreds, thousands, a myriad — twinkling like stars in a night sky. A string of diamonds was wrapped teasingly around her throat, taunting her with a single glance. A set of diamond hair pins had also been artfully incorporated in her fiery waist length hair that had been scraped back into a low bun with a strand free at the left side framing her face.

Their eyes locked and Kamilah’s heart rate doubled. When she felt like this it always made her feel as though the reason she’d been born… was so she could find her, love her, and that Anastasia could love her in return. She believed that with all her heart, as the moment she’d found her suddenly, everything was beautiful. The way she viewed the world was now nothing more but a reflection of her wife.

“Kami!,” Anastasia beamed, drawing her into a series of long kisses and completely melting her heart with her excitement to see her. “I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, baby,” she sighed happily, resting her brow against hers as she ran her hands up and down her sides. She experienced a profound rush of relief at having her back in her arms. Like she was safely home, regardless of where they were in the world as long as they were together. Now, perhaps she would be able to shake off the feeling of dread that had descended on her after they had parted. “I missed you ardently.”

“You look—“ They started to say at the same time, cutting themselves off with a shared laugh before continuing in unison, “beautiful.”

Kamilah had never really been a gown loving lady, even back when women had been required to wear dresses she’d longed to wear a finely tailored suit, and the irritating lack of pockets in modern dresses were the nail in the coffin. With no place to conceal her blades or anything she might need to incapacitate an enemy — or no place to stash some gummy bears for convenient snacking purposes — she refused to wear them. So the suit she’d chosen to wear without a shirt beneath the jacket was the dark red colour of fresh venous blood, so dark that the rippling watered silk seeming to subtly change from the dark red to nearly pitch black in different lights. She'd fallen in love with it at once.

“I have something I need to confess,” Anastasia said, half laughing. “I had a few shots the other night and I did a thing.”

“Darling, the last time you did a thing you accidentally threw Lily from our rooftop because she dared you to use your abilities to float her to the building across the street whilst she pretended to be Superman,” she cringed, sighing in dismay at the memory of her protégé taking a fall that would’ve killed her if she’d been mortal. Instead of being horrified like a sane individual, the fool had ran back upstairs and demanded she do it again so she could film it. 

Anastasia giggled. “In my defence, I was drunk.”

“That may have worked the first time, but she demands you do it every time she gets drunk at the penthouse and wears a different super hero costume each time.” She chuckled. “What’s your excuse for all of those times?”

“I’m being a good friend and supporting her dreams of being a one woman Avengers team.”

She kissed her forehead and rolled her eyes. She really did have an answer for everything. “Alright... what is this thing that you have done this time?”

“Promise you won’t judge me.”

“Have I ever?” Anastasia raised and eyebrow at that and Kamilah sighed. “I promise I’ll try not to judge you but that is the best I can do.“

She stopped talking the moment Anastasia turned around to reveal an elegant looking tattoo that decorated the column of her lower spine. She wasn’t exactly surprised that Anastasia had done something like this, as her wife was a beautiful dreamer. The kind of woman who kept her head in the clouds, loved above the stars and left regret beneath the earth she walked on.

“Annie— that’s— that’s my name in hieroglyphs,” she stammered, brushing her fingertips gently against the delicate black script in a cherishing caress before brushing her thumbs across the dimples at the bottom of her spine. 

“It is,” Anastasia giggled.

She loved it.

Even just looking at it like this sparked something inside her — lit a fire in that dark and dominant part of her soul that desired things with her that would’ve sent most women running for the hills. It was the same way she felt when she fastened a collar around her neck or cuffs around her wrists. So it seemed that tattoos had a power and magic all of their own that she’d been unaware of. They decorated the body but they also enhanced the soul.

“Oh my god,” Mathew gasped as he and Tyler also studied the tattoo. “That’s hot.”

“Did you just quote Paris Hilton?,” Anastasia laughed.

Mathew high fived her. “This is why I like you. Nobody else relates to Paris Hilton like you and I do.”

“Dare I ask what you got?,” Kamilah asked, looking at the mortal.

Tyler sighed and pulled his shirt up to reveal ‘MERRY CHRISTMAS YA FILTHY ANIMAL’ in block letters across his ribs. He did look awfully like an overgrown version of the terrifying child in the movie, which only made it funnier... and even Kamilah burst into laughter along with Anastasia and Mathew at the sight of it.

“Ty!,” Mathew snorted. “You dumbfuck, what the hell?”

“Since we’re becoming vampires soon I’m going to be five hundred years old walking around with a Macaulay Culkin quote on my body long after random people stop asking me where my mother is,” Tyler huffed. “I’m the dumbest gay and I shouldn’t be allowed to adult.”

“You coulda got something from The Devil Wears Prada and you went full Home Alone,” Mathew laughed, kissing his lips to placate him. “This is exactly why I love you, dumbass.”

“I’m giving him a raise for that,” Anastasia giggled.

Tyler ran a hand through his blonde hair and joined their laughter. “If every business trip with you will end in us getting drunk tattoos I’ll literally go anywhere you want me to.”

“Let’s get you a drink, honey,” Mathew smiled, leading his future husband away by the hand.

“Well yours is beautiful,” she concluded, gently turning Anastasia around and drawing her back into her embrace. 

“You’re not going to lecture me about getting tipsy enough to get a tattoo when you’re not around to protect me?”

She caressed her face and pressed a kiss between her brows. “I may not be thrilled at the thought, my love, but I am not your keeper... and you’re clearly safe. So what would be the point? You’re here in my arms in one piece with my name permanently inked upon your body. Only a fool would begrudge that.”

Anastasia giggled and nuzzled her cheek against her palm. When she spoke her words were dripping with sarcasm, “you mean to say you’re turned on by having another Brand on my body? How shocking. I had absolutely no idea you’d be into this.”

She laughed at that and teasingly nipped at her bottom lip. “That is what makes it all so fascinating, you see. Loving you is like gravity or the colours of the daily sunset. It is something reliable but mysterious that I know I will be content to explore for the rest of my life.”

“I must say, Kami, you are surviving married life very nicely,” Anastasia teased.

"Thank you,” she snorted, “I flatter myself that not every domme could survive being married to such a little brat.”

Anastasia’s glacial gaze twinkled at her. “How long do we have?”

Already five steps ahead of her, Kamilah was already leading her towards the door. “We will not have to take our seats for the dinner and prize giving for another hour. Now is supposed to be time for networking but—“

“We hate everybody here,” Anastasia interjected.

“Indeed.” She didn’t even try to conceal her laughter. “We hate everybody here a great deal and I have almost slit fifty throats in the time I’ve been forced to socialise with these imbeciles. It’s best we take a breather.”

Anastasia had organised for them to stay in the best room in the hotel: The Chairman Suite, and the moment they’d crossed the threshold Kamilah shoved her against the nearest wall.

“That eager, are you?,” Anastasia goaded her.

“You’re mine…” she told her in a whisper, just inches from her face. “This pussy is mine. All the time… whether it’s my fingers… or my tongue… or my strap.” She gave her neck a tight squeeze, relishing in the way she bit down on her bottom lip. “All mine.”

Kamilah had expected another soft touch of her lips against her, but she was quickly proven wrong as she let go of her neck. This time, Anastasia’s mouth settled on hers with intent, firm and insistent. When she gasped at the difference, at how much she’d missed this, her tongue slid between her parted lips and teased her until she moaned. She kissed as if she meant to conquer her, and Kamilah was all too happy to surrender as she backed her into the bedroom. 

Her hands moved over Anastasia, gripping her slender waist, sliding up her shoulders to hold the nape of her neck as her mouth traveled over her eyelids and down her jaw. She whimpered as her teeth grazed her earlobe, setting her earring swaying, and she almost melted when her hand brushed her breast. Then somehow her hands had unbuttoned her jacket and began caressing her breasts, before she lowered her head and began worshiping her nipples with her mouth.

“Missed me that much did you?,” she breathed, her voice overly tight as she fought back an embarrassingly loud moan.

Anastasia mumbled something unintelligible without even lifting her head, pushing the jacket right off of her shoulders. Between the heat of her mouth and the coolness of her hands cupping her, her fingers, teeth, and tongue teasing right over her nipples. Kamilah’s start of shock turned into a shiver of ecstasy as she stroked the hard little nubs again, and again, and again.

She pulled her hard against her, until her hips met hers and then pushed the thin straps of her dress slowly down her arms and watched as it sank to the floor.

“No underwear?,” she practically moaned. “God, Annie.”

Anastasia giggled. “Even thongs showed in this dress.”

“Tattoos. No underwear.” Her voice was barely a whisper, her words fluttering against her neck as Anastasia undid her trousers and slipped her hands down the back to squeeze her ass. This was what it meant to want someone with a burning passion. Thank all the saints in heaven she'd gotten a chance to feel it. “You’ll be the death of me.”

Without a word she gave her a hard shove down on the bed and shimmied out of her trousers before grabbing something she’d bought to surprise her with from her suitcase.

“That’ll tear us in half,” Anastasia giggled as she spotted the new strap.

“Oh, I think we can take it.”

The Bloodkeeper teasingly swirled her fingers around between her own legs, keeping her eyes locked on her the whole time. “Show me.”

That was all the permission Kamilah needed as she crawled onto the bed on top of her. She held her down in the cushioning billows of the bed, kissed her, fondled and provocatively caressed until she arched, with her body begging; breaking from the kiss, she trailed hot, wet, openmouthed kisses and nips of her fangs down the taut line of her throat, over the creamy upper swell of her breasts, and gave her the first course of what she'd been dreaming about every night they’d been apart.

She feasted on her breasts without quarter, licked, suckled, and laved as she writhed and gasped beneath her, as her hands gripped and tightened on her hair as she drew every last gasp and moan she could from her, then moved on.

Over her midriff, down over her waist, pausing to pay homage to the sensitive indentation of her navel, then she shifted still lower.

Trapping one of her slender legs beneath her, lifting and draping the other over her shoulder, she held it there, held her steady as she pressed an ardent kiss to the sensitive skin of her most intimate area.

She heard her breath hitch, felt her body tremble, then tense and coil. Glancing at her face, she caught a glimpse of intense glacial blue burning beneath her heavy lids, saw her lips slick and swollen from her kisses, parted in shocked pleasure. Deliberately she slid lower, bent and set her eager lips to the slick, swollen flesh between her thighs.

She jerked, moaned. She licked and she whimpered her name. Anastasia reached for her, but could only touch her head. Her fingers twined in her hair, tightened; she tensed to tug, but she licked again, then slowly, expertly probed, and she didn't move.

Panting, eyes shut, she waited.

“You know the rules,” she murmured, stopping to kiss the thigh draped over her shoulder. “Look at me.”

Anastasia giggled. “Kami.”

She nipped at her thigh. “It’s been an entire week since I’ve seen those beautiful eyes. Keep looking at me.”

Anastasia bit down on her bottom lip and caressed her, but kept her eyes locked on hers as she leaned back in. Inwardly smug, she settled to worship her in that way, too, to taste her, to fill her senses with her, and Anastasia’s with her.

She let her have her way, let her taste her as she wished, let her try her with her tongue and drive her mindless as she used her abilities to share the sensations with her. To allow her to feel exactly the same thing she was as she pleasured her.

Kamilah asked, and Anastasia surrendered; she took, and Anastasia gave. In return, she made love to her with unwavering devotion until they sobbed and cried out each other’s name.

“How many times have I told you that it’s cheating to use your abilities to pin me?,” she laughed as she found herself flat on her back.

“A lot,” Anastasia smirked. “You’ll just have to spank me for it later.”

Gasping desperately, Kamilah clenched her hands on the hands wrapped around her thighs, her fingers sinking deep as Anastasia’s head disappeared between her thighs. Anastasia turned her hands around and linked her fingers with hers, holding both of her hands tightly and caressing her thumbs with her own as her lips parted against her, she suckled and explored gently, and Kamilah felt the earth quake. The heat of her mouth shocked her, the wet sweep of her tongue scalded her and she gave a strangled cry.

That sound, keenly feminine, acutely evocative, caught and focused Anastasia’s attention. Focused her every instinct. Desire heightened, need escalated. Kamilah’s demons turned frenzied and her wife’s siren's song lured them on. Urged her on. Compulsion swelled; tense, turbulent, powerful. Desire seethed hotly. 

She released with a ragged cry of her name and all she knew was the peace, the calm, the profound pleasure that welled and washed through her. Content, she flowed with the tide, letting her senses stretch. The whirling that had disoriented her slowed; her mind steadied.

Rising, she grabbed the new toy and shoved Anastasia firmly on her back, trailed kisses like fire across her face and neck as she loomed over her, spreading her thighs wide, settling between. She held herself over her, arms braced as she kissed her, tasted her desperation on her lips. Then with one, single powerful thrust she joined them.

She moved, and Anastasia moved with her, fluidly meeting her as they gave themselves up to the now familiar dance. Her thoughts fractured, ripped from her as a whirlpool of sensation rose up, drenched, then drowned her. She held her beneath her and thrust— hard, deep. With a cry, Anastasia arched; as she thrust again, even deeper, she desperately caught her breath, then wrapped her arms about her, wrapped her legs around her and gripped her flanks, and raked her nails across the length of her back as she joined her in frantic urgency as she rode her.

Anastasia murmured her name and felt her body rejoice, felt her senses whirl and sing with pleasure. She was exquisitely conscious, to her fingernails raking against her ribs, aware of the shattering intimacy of their joining. Eyes closed, hearing suspended, her world condensed just to the two of them, and another world came alive, a landscape filled with feeling, with heat and longing, with sensation and power and the promise of glory.

Kamilah watched in awe as she spiraled through a void, cushioned in heated bliss, her mind disconnected. She bit her lip as she heard her sharp gasps and kissed her as she went rigid in her arms.

“Told you that you could take it,” she whispered, nuzzling her ear as she caught her breath.

“Your turn,” Anastasia giggled.

“As you wish,” she smirked, kissing her cheek as she fumbled with the harness.

Anastasia sat up against the pillows and gently guided her on to her, kissing her lips. “Comfortable?”

“Mhm,” she groaned, arching as her nails trailed down the length of her back. She embraced her and gloried in her, thrilled to be wanted with such unwavering intent, with such concerted focus, with such... adoration. Despite the passion driving her, despite the desire that had darkened her eyes, that infused every caress with a driven edge, behind all was a care that never wavered.

A care that had her holding back as she adjusted, her breathing as ragged as hers, her kiss every bit as desperate, until her clever fingers sent her wits spinning from this world and submerged her senses in indescribable pleasure.

Only then did Anastasia thrust up into her.

She gasped, arched into her, then moaned as her wife took advantage of her invitation and drove even deeper into her very willing body. She clamped around her and she paused, their eyes locked, every muscle clenched and tight, she was so worked up she was on the cusp of breaking already, so she drew in a labored breath, Anastasia withdrew and then thrust anew, and Kamilah lost touch with the world.

All she knew was the heat and the flames and the steady, relentless possession. The giddy pleasure and delight, and beneath and through it all threaded the evidence of the strength of her love for her.

It was there in the catch of Anastasia’s breath when Kamilah shifted, rose on her lap and moved against her, letting her lips tease her excruciatingly sensitive nipples.

There in the way she slowed, metaphorically gripping her hand and drawing her back from the brink so that she didn't rush ahead and end the pleasure all too soon, but instead caught her sensual breath and joined with her in that primitive and evocative dance. 

More all-consuming, all-absorbing. More intimate.

Love was there in the guttural whispers of encouragement she fed her when she once more started that inexorable climb and her fingernails raked at her name now printed on her spine, when passion roared and she suddenly found it upon her, near and so intense. There in the way in which she held her, cradled her, guided her hips, massaged her swollen bundle of nerves, all the while moving so relentlessly within her, stoking the flames, sending her senses careening.

There in the moment when ecstasy claimed her and she held her close, and held still, muscles quivering with restraint, prolonging the moment until she wept with simple joy. There in the final helpless and very vulnerable moment when Kamilah lost herself completely in her.

“If that’s what happens when I get your name tattooed on me, I’ll get a whole damn sleeve next time,” Anastasia giggled as she soothingly rubbed her back, holding her on her lap as she collected herself.

Buoyed by glory, cocooned in golden rapture, Kamilah smiled and nuzzled her cheek against her shoulder. “I still have no idea how it’s even possible to feel like that...”

That was a bold faced lie. She knew it was possible to feel like that because Anastasia cared a great deal for her pleasure and wasn’t simply just using her body to satisfy a need. This was how sex was supposed to feel, she realised. This was how it had always been supposed to be: a glorious act of reclaiming her own body.

Anastasia cradled the back of her head in her hand and whispered, “I’ll always do everything in my power to make you feel like that.”

“I know you will,” she sighed happily, leaning back so that she was looking her in the eyes. “I love you so, so much.”

Anastasia smiled softly against her lips and murmured, “I love you too, sweetheart. More than you know.”

“I wish we could stay like this all evening,” she sighed, still making no attempts to move.

“Well we have awards to be... awarded?,” Anastasia laughed. “Did that make sense?”

“It made perfect sense,” she chuckled, “but most native speakers would probably choose to say ‘given’ in place of awarded in casual conversation because the winners for each category have already been announced and we will simply be receiving the trophies.”

The Bloodkeeper hummed gratefully and drew her into another kiss. “Everyone is going to know what we were up to. Look at how we’re glowing.”

“Indeed, isn’t it wonderful?,” she beamed, feeling far too proud of herself. “The majority of people in that room are miserable old mortals who have been relying on their own hands for orgasms for longer than you have been alive. If it wasn’t clear our lives are much more exciting than theirs now it will be.”

Anastasia threw her head back as she laughed. “You’re such a dork—” her brow furrowed as her gaze locked on something behind her. “Kami, tell me you didn’t stuff your pockets with three — four? — different types of gummy bears.”

“They’re a very appealing snack food,” she replied unapologetically. “I found a brand infused with craft beer in London, one with wine, one with spirits, and another with a whole array of different cocktails! I was going to text you to share my excitement but I figured I’d inform you in person.”

“You’ve been eating gummy bears three meals a day while I’ve been gone, haven’t you?”

She huffed, pretending to be offended at the mere insinuation. “I survived more than two thousand years without—“

“You have been surviving on gummy bears for the past week.”

“The mortal who invented them should’ve been rewarded a knighthood!,” she declared. “And technically speaking, you’re the one who introduced me to them. My sudden addiction is all your doing.”

“You,” she pressed a kiss to her nose to placate her grumbling, “are a massive dork.”

~ fin.


End file.
